


Chains and Cuffs

by eerian_sadow



Series: Tri-Unity [2]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fingering, Hand Jobs, Handcuffs, Light Bondage, Multi, Sticky Sex, Threesome, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-25
Updated: 2013-01-25
Packaged: 2017-11-26 21:30:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/654612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eerian_sadow/pseuds/eerian_sadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jazz gets himself into a compromising position.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chains and Cuffs

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wicked3659](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wicked3659/gifts).



> this was inspired by [this prompt](http://community.livejournal.com/tfanonkink/3587.html?thread=3229699#t3229699) on the kink meme, but doesn’t come anywhere close to filling it, as I knew it wouldn’t the moment the bunny put Jazz in the chains. 
> 
> For purposes of this fic, a groon is roughly equal to an hour. And if you think that the unnamed Autobot might happen to be someone from G1 that many of us know and love, you’re probably right. ~_^

Jazz’s processor came back online slowly, feeling like he was processing through sludge rather than having been hit squarely on the head. He wondered, vaguely, if he had been drugged to keep him under longer after his quarry had knocked him out or if he had some kind of processor damage. He had been hit pretty hard.

“Good, you’re waking up.”

He didn’t try to deny the other mech’s words, be he didn’t respond either. He wasn’t even entirely sure he could actually respond right now.

“You don’t need to bother hiding it.” The other mech sounded more irritated than anything else, and Jazz wasn’t sure if he was comforted by that or not. “Your visor is active, even if the optics under it aren’t.”

The guardsmech pinged his slowly responding systems and realized the other mech was right. He activated his optics in response and took a good look at his captor. The mech in front of him was slender, almost fragile looking, and painted the most garish shade of green he had ever seen. The green mech frowned at him, gold optics narrowed in anger. He tried to hold his hands up in a placating gesture, and realized they were fastened into high-security cuffs and chained above his head.

“Who… are… you?” Jazz spoke slowly; just trying to think was a chore and actually speaking was harder than it had any right to be. And this was certainly _not_ a good situation for that. “What… did… you do?”

“Who am I?” The green mech looked affronted. “I should be asking you that, after you forced your way into my investigation. What did you think you were doing?”

“Helping.” And that was certainly true, based on what he remembered before he blacked out. “That femme…”

“Is my partner. She didn’t need your help.” The green mech’s angry scowl deepened. “Just who are you?”

“Jazz.” As his processor finished its boot-up sequence—finally—it occurred to him that perhaps he shouldn't be quite so free with his answers.

“Of the Elite Guard? _Slag._ ” The green mech covered his optics with one hand. “Look, I don’t have time to deal with you now, but I can’t have you getting in my way again.”

Jazz frowned as the other mech tugged on chains holding him up, giving him enough slack to kneel on the floor but not letting him loose. “What the frag, mech? I can help you.”

“The chemicals I used to keep you under won’t process out of your system for another groon at least. Until then, you’re a liability and I can’t afford that. Cache needs me right now and you’re in no condition to be useful.” The green mech turned and started walking away. “I’ll send a message to your team with your coordinates and they can come pick you up.”

Before he could formulate a proper reply, Jazz heard an unseen door open and close. Silence descended over the room a moment later and he knew he was alone.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

His arms were beginning to ache and he wasn’t entirely sure he could feel his fingers anymore. High-security cuffs weren’t meant to be used for longer than it took to transport a prisoner from one place to another, and Jazz sincerely hoped that he wasn’t receiving any permanent damage from them. He also hoped that _someone_ would find him soon; he had been here for three groons already and was not looking forward to any more.

Idly, he contemplated turning on his locator beacon. He wasn’t in the best neighborhood to be sending out an Elite Guard distress call, but being found by the criminal element was also preferable to hanging here in chains and hoping that the green mech who had strung him up was good for his word.

He discarded the idea after another few moments. There were still Elite Guard wings painted on his chest plates and that didn’t sit well with many members of the local gangs. He wanted loose, yes, but he didn’t want to end up on a scrap pile in the process. Instead, he stared up at the cuffs and contemplated an application of Processor Over Matter. He wasn’t as good as Prowl with the fine control yet, but Prowl also hadn’t had any fine control over it at all the first time he used it to break out of a pair of stasis cuffs.

He settled into a meditative state and began to hum softly as the door opened.

“Jazz?” 

His concentration was abruptly shattered by the relief he felt at the sound of Optimus Prime’s voice, but that was okay. Getting out of here was much more important than practicing his POM skills. “OP, you have no idea how glad I am to hear your voice.”

“I can imagine. What happened?” He could hear the larger mech crossing the room, and then Optimus crouched down in front of him. “Are you all right?”

“Apparently I stuck my nose in where it wasn’t wanted.” He gave the prime a rueful smile. “I’m fine, but some mechs don’t appreciate heroics too much it seems.”

“Optimus, these cuffs will be impossible to unlock without the proper codes.” Jazz winced when he heard Prowl’s voice coming from above and behind him. This was not the sort of situation he wanted the other ninja to see him in. “And I don’t recall that information being in the transmission we received.”

Optimus frowned. “It wasn’t. Jazz, who did this to you?”

The white ninja shrugged. “Didn’t get his name, but his partner’s a femme named Cache. Claimed he was on some kind of mission, but didn’t say what. Could have been anybody, really. And down here, anybody isn’t always friendly.”

“No they aren’t,” Prowl agreed. Jazz looked up as careful fingers probed the plating on his arms next to the cuffs. “These were professionally applied, at least. You don’t appear to have any damage aside from the hooks in your armor. We’re going to have to call Ratchet, though. His override codes will be the fastest way to get the cuffs off.”

Jazz sighed. “Better him than Bumblebee. I didn’t exactly want the whole team knowing, though.”

“They won’t. Bumblebee and Bulkhead can wait outside.” Optimus gave him a reassuring smile before turning away to send the communiqué. 

“I’m sorry, Jazz,” Prowl said softly moving to sit beside the guardsmech. “I would have been more insistent about accompanying you if I had thought anything like this would happen.”

“Don’t worry about it. Might’ve just been both of us in this embarrassing predicament if you had.”

“Still.” The dark ninja laid a comforting hand on Jazz’s leg. “You are part of our team now and that means we take care of you. Or at least better care than Sentinel did.”

“Well, you did come to get me,” the white ninja pointed out. “Even if you can’t get me down.”

“No one said we couldn’t get you down.” Both ninjas ducked as the prime’s ax sailed through the air above their heads and cut through the chain holding Jazz’s arms up. “We just said we couldn’t get the cuffs off.”

Prowl eased Jazz’s arms down, carefully rotating the stiffened shoulder joints to prevent damage. Then he moved behind the guardsmech and began massaging the cables and energon tubing to restore sensation and circulation. Optimus did the same for his arms. Jazz hissed as the aches were soothed away.

“Are we hurting you?” Optimus looked and sounded so genuinely concerned that Jazz forgot his discomfort for a moment.

“Nah, it’s good. Just been strung up there too long.”

The prime looked down at the floor. “I’m sorry, Jazz. You wouldn’t have been here nearly as long if I hadn’t waited to verify the transmission with command.”

“Hey, mech, it’s cool. I don’t blame you.” Jazz tried to reach out and use his cuffed hands to tip Optimus’ face back up, but he couldn’t make his arms move. “You had to know it was legit before you could risk coming after me.”

Prowl paused in his ministrations to reach around Jazz and rest his hand on the prime’s. “Optimus. You know this isn’t your burden to bear alone. We all knew Jazz was coming down here and we all let him come alone.”

“I know. I just…” the red and blue mech looked back up, face full of remorse. “I let you down. And I’m sorry.”

Jazz shook his head as both mechs returned to their massages. “Leaving me here would have been the letdown, OP. You didn’t let me down at all.”

“Thanks, Jazz.” Optimus gave him a small smile and carefully massaged the elbow joint of Jazz’s arm. “Sometimes I forget I don’t have anything to prove to you.”

“You never did, mech.” Jazz returned the smile and then moaned slightly as an unexpected burst of pleasure shot across his sensory net at Optimus’ touch.

Optimus and Prowl both froze. “Jazz, are we hurting you?” Prowl asked.

The white ninja shook his head. “No. I think my sensory signals must be getting crossed or something after being stuck in the same position for so long.”

There was a moment of tense silence. Then the prime asked, “So it felt good when I did that?”

Jazz nodded slowly, suddenly nervous about the situation.

“What if I did it again?” 

Prowl gave a discouraging noise at the question. “Optimus, this isn’t the time to—“

Jazz interrupted him. “If you do it again, you better be ready to do a whole lot more.”

Optimus nodded and carefully pressed his fingers back into the cabling in Jazz’s elbow. The guardsmech moaned again, pleasure shooting across his sensory net. The prime rubbed his fingers back and forth, changing the pressure slightly and Jazz arched back with a keen. As the white ninja’s head rested against his shoulder, Prowl turned his head so that he could press a kiss to Jazz’s lip components.

Prowl’s hands moved from Jazz’s shoulders as they kissed, sliding down the guardsmech’s arms to tangle with Optimus’ at the white mech’s elbows. The dark ninja tugged gently and Optimus shifted so that he could lean forward and take Prowl’s place in the kiss.

“I still don’t think this is the time or place,” Prowl nuzzled against Jazz’s audio receptor, “But we have talked about this. Fantasized about having you between us. Wanted to see you arched in pleasure and moaning our names.”

Jazz made a contented sound, not quite a moan at the words. He broke away from the kiss with Optimus to give the other ninja a playful look. “Should’ve just said something. I’d be crazy to turn the two of you down.”

“Then you’re okay with this?” Optimus’ gaze was intense and his optics dark with lust, but he was still obviously in control of himself. “Really okay?”

Something about the prime’s tone indicated that someone in the red and blue mech’s past hadn’t been okay with the idea. In response, he forced his arms up and over Optimus’ head and using his cuffed hands to pull the larger mech tightly against him. “Would’ve stopped you already if I wasn’t.”

Optimus shivered as Jazz pulled him into another kiss. Prowl nuzzled the white ninja’s audio again as he pulled his hands away from Optimus’ and settled them on Jazz’s abdominal plating. Jazz sighed as the dark ninja stroked his plating.

“Tell us where to touch you, Jazz.” Prowl’s tone sent Jazz’s secondary cooling system into start-up mode. “Tell us what feels good.”

The prime broke away from their kiss and trailed a series of nips and kisses along Jazz’s jaw and down to his neck cables. The white ninja gasped and arched back as much as he could when Optimus used his glossa to single out an energon line before sucking it into his mouth. “Anywhere, mech! Touch me anywhere you want. Please!”

“What if,” Prowl moved his hands lower, tracing the edges of the panel that covered Jazz’s interface components, “I want to touch you here? Is that all right?”

Jazz whimpered as heat and pleasure followed the dark ninja’s calculating touch. Prowl’s tone alone was enough to get him wound up, but the teasing touch was making his arousal almost painful. He could feel his cord pressurizing and attempting to extend as the black and gold mech continued teasing the seams of the panel. “Yes. Don’t stop!” The guardsmech shifted so that Prowl could reach more of the panel. After a moment, one of Optimus’ hands moved down to the panel as well, stroking the cover itself as Prowl teased the edges.

“What if we want to touch what’s under it?” the prime asked, letting go of the energon line in his mouth.

The white ninja whimpered again, and let the panel retract. His cord rose to full extension almost immediately and air chilled the lubricant he hadn’t realized was building in his valve. Optimus’ fingers moved almost immediately to the open valve and collected lubricant. He rubbed the fluid into the sensory nodes along the edge of the valve with practiced ease, causing Jazz to squirm and gasp. Prowl moved one hand away from Jazz’s interface equipment and wrapped his arm around the white ninja’s chest, holding the guardsmech still. The dark ninja’s other hand made its way to Jazz’s cord and trailed a feather light touch along its length.

“Unnh! Fragging teases!” Jazz tried to buck his hips, to shift so that Optimus’ fingers went into his valve instead of just playing along the edges, but the prime rested his free hand against the white ninja’s pelvic plating and pushed him firmly back against Prowl. 

Prowl moved his fingers away from Jazz’s cord entirely. Still holding the white ninja tightly with one arm, Prowl used the other to remove Jazz’s arms from Optimus’ neck and folded them against their owner’s chest plates. “Oh no, Jazz. If we were teasing, we would do things like this.”

The dark ninja pulled the prime’s head up a bit and met his lips in a kiss over Jazz’s shoulder. The white ninja groaned as his arms and his cord were trapped between his body and the larger mech’s. The friction felt lovely, but it was hardly enough stimulation—especially since Optimus stopped touching any part of Jazz’s valve as Prowl kissed him.

“Please,” the guardsmech begged. “Please don’t stop touching.”

Prowl responded to Jazz’s pleas by trailing his fingers down Jazz’s side in a gentle caress. The white ninja’s hyper-alert sensors followed the track of Prowl’s fingers with a line of blazing pleasure. Optimus began moving his fingers again, tracing the edge of Jazz’s valve again before sliding one finger inside. 

“Is that what you wanted, Jazz?” Optimus asked as he began thrusting his finger slowly. 

Prowl continued tracing patterns along the armor seams in Jazz’s side, making it hard for the while ninja to think as flares of warm pleasure erupted across his sensor net. “Yes. Mm… ‘Spark yes.”

“Do you want more?” prowl distracted Jazz from his own question for a moment by moving his hands to the guardsmech’s head lights and stroking over them with firm touches. “Do you want me to touch your cord again?”

“Please!” Jazz’s voice came out with a whimper. The only thing he wanted more than to have Prowl’s hands on his cord was to have his cord in someone’s valve, but Optimus chose that moment to slide another finger into Jazz’s valve and he lost the train of thought. “Please…”

Prowl made a very pleased sound at Jazz’s whimpering and begging. The dark ninja gave the other a fierce, quick kiss, then moved his hands to the white ninja’s cord. Jazz groaned at the contact and bucked into Prowl’s hand. This time neither Optimus nor Prowl attempted to restrain him and he took advantage of the freedom to force the prime’s fingers further into his valve and to stimulate his cord against the other ninja’s hands. Prowl matched his motions, moving his hands down when Jazz thrust upward and pulling back and Jazz pulled away. Optimus did the same in his valve, thrusting in as the white ninja came down on his fingers and pulling out as he thrust into the confines of Prowl’s hands.

Jazz trembled and shook, moaning as the sensations became overwhelming and his systems charged steadily toward overload. When Optimus leaned forward to kiss him again, changing the angle of his cord and its thrusts into Prowl’s hands, he cried out as the energy peaked and overloaded hard.

The white ninja thought he heard Prowl whispering something about him being beautiful as his overtaxed systems shut down.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

He came back online, propped against Prowl’s chest and wrapped securely in the dark ninja’s arms. Optimus was laying with them, nestled between their legs with his head pillowed on one of Jazz’s thighs. He flexed his fingers carefully and realized that someone had managed to remove the security cuffs while he was offline. The guardsmech took in his surroundings lazily, not really wanting to move and look around, and realized he was back in the suite of rooms they were occupying while they were in Iacon.

“I guess Ratchet got the cuffs off me?” he asked quietly, not wanting to wake the prime if Optimus was recharging.

“He did,” Prowl replied, equally quiet. “But he was not pleased with your condition. Why didn’t you tell us that your captor had drugged you?”

“Didn’t seem important at the time. Mech said it would wear off after a groon, and I’d been hanging there for three.” Jazz shrugged. “I felt okay, aside from being thoroughly embarrassed.”

The dark ninja sighed. “You’re going to be as stubborn about things as Optimus, aren’t you?”

“Mech, I’m probably more stubborn than Optimus,” Jazz replied with a grin. “You hadn’t figured that out yet?”

Prowl chuckled, which caused Optimus to make a displeased sound and shift unhappily in his recharge. Both ninjas reached down to soothe him and their fingers tangled when they touched his helm.

“Stay with us,” Prowl requested, looking down at their joined fingers. “Be our third.”

Jazz shook his head sadly. “I can’t agree to something like that without OP having something to say about it. Ain’t fair to any of us.”

“Please, Jazz?” Optimus turned and looked up at Jazz with optics that flickered unsteadily from a disturbed recharge. “We need you.”

Jazz watched, bemused as Optimus continued his turn and nuzzled his face against the white ninja’s abdominal plating. “Ask me again when you’re really awake, OP.”

“Sure, Jazz.” The white ninja chuckled softly when the prime wrapped one arm around his waist and then dropped back into recharge like a sparkling.

“Was that a yes?” Prowl asked hopefully.

“It wasn’t a no,” Jazz replied.


End file.
